


nights on varadero call for slips of the tongue

by crapin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, also can u tell i love love, basically 20k words of everyone apologizing to lance, hes bi karen, shiros tired but NOT FOR LONG BABEY, yea lance loves naruto and teen beach movie yea this is just a self insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 12:39:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15119594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crapin/pseuds/crapin
Summary: you can find a home in other people





	nights on varadero call for slips of the tongue

**Author's Note:**

> this started out as a "what i think should happen when they all get back to earth" fic, then it turned into .... this. i had a lot of fun writing it - it's the first fic that ive finished and actually posted since i used to write the hunger games fic in 6th grade lol.  
> i also made a short, [6 song long playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/sallyseifu/playlist/0ab9wRmiphUaKCrvH2Yq1e?si=fAetpECZQ5upHN6-u_mDOg) to go along with the fic just for fun - i'll link it at the end, too  
> thank u so much to rory (rory on tumblr) for editing, im sorry i love parentheses so much  
> also, im on tumblr (sunstirade) and twitter (deathnoteop1)  
> :o)

June 15

It was Varadero beach, but different. Or, more accurately, Lance was different. This beach was from a life pre-Voltron, pre-knowledge-of-aliens-existence, pre-intergalactic-war. When Lance brushed the hair from his face, he’d almost expected his hands to feel smooth like they once were, but they were calloused and rough from hardship and battle. Lance’s feet dug into the sand, and it was so familiar, and so, so different.

The sun was setting; it would be dark in minutes. Lance leaned back on his hands and tilted his head up, eyes closed, breathing in the warm air, the sea salt, the burgers being grilled by a nearby family who, for all he knew, have never heard the words “Zarkon” or “Galra.” He breathed in until he thought his lungs would burst, then he did it again, and again.

The rest of the team, minus Shiro, were all on the beach as well. When everyone had first arrived at Lance’s home, it was nothing short of a party. The original plan had been to stay at the Holts’ as the Castle of Lions was being rebuilt, but there had simply been no room. When Allura had asked for any other options, Lance had volunteered his house before she could even finish her sentence.

When they entered the solar system that they’d all known like the back of their hands, Lance had started to panic.

They were really going back to Earth.

Earth. Earth. Earth.

 _Home_.

What had changed? What had stayed the same? Lance knew that Commander Holt had reported back to the Garrison, explaining all that he knew and bearing his evidence. He knew that news outlets had been informed that the four missing Garrison students and the formerly presumed dead Garrison instructor were all very much alive and spreading good throughout the universe.

This meant that his mom knew he was okay. A weight so huge was lifted off his shoulders, he felt like he was gliding whenever he moved. But his hands still shook as they all drew closer and closer to home.

It had taken time to make it there; they had to pick up Matt, who was stationed on a planet in the complete opposite direction of Earth. The trip home was long and nerve wracking, but finally, they entered the Earth’s atmosphere, and Lance thought that he might faint.

They first landed in Texas to pick up Sam Holt, and from there, Lance would use the Holt phone to call his mother to notify her of their arrival and their plans for the summer.

When they found a remote area to land, Lance stumbled outside, fell to his knees, and breathed in the scent of dust and static that had once been so familiar to him during his time at the Garrison. He was surprised at how much this calmed his nerves. While everyone got temporarily settled, Keith went to his shack to grab his bike and some other items to bring to Lance’s house.

Then, they made the short drive to Pidge’s house (in an actual Earth car)! When they’d arrived, Holt had given him a phone and the directions to an empty room to call his mother in.

Lance shut the door, pressed his back against it, and slid all the way down. He dialed her with shaking fingers and didn’t miss a beat--he knew her phone number like he knew the letters in his own name. He pressed CALL and awaited her answer.

“Hello?” she said at the end of the other line. Lance’s breath caught like a train hitting cement. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t breathe at the sound of his mother’s voice, her beautiful voice. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed it.

“Hello?” she’d said again. Then, she was silent for what felt like forever before whispering, so quietly, so hesitantly, “Lance?”

It was then that Lance broke down in sobs. “ _Mami_ ,” he’d choked out, clutching onto the phone for dear life, as if he could somehow touch her through it. “ _Mami_ , it’s Lance. It’s Lance. I missed you so much, _mami_. I missed you so, so much.”

He’d heard sobbing on the other line, which only made him cry harder. “It’s Lance,” she yelled. “He’s here. He’s back. Oh, my boy, he’s back. You’re back.”

After they had both collected themselves and Lance had tearfully greeted his entire family over the phone, he’d explained their situation. When he’d asked if it was okay for them to stay at their house, his mother had said, “Yes, of course, as long as you’re home, baby, just come home.”

“I will, _mami_ ,” Lance said. “I love you so much. I’ll see you soon.” He hung up and went straight to the bathroom, washing his face which had turned completely red and puffy. Then, after curiosity took him over and he quickly snooped around Pidge’s room, he’d gone to rejoin the others.

“You okay?” Keith had asked Lance.

“Yeah,” Lance sniffled. “Just didn’t realize exactly how much I missed my mom.”

“Don’t worry. You’re gonna see her in no time,” Keith said, a soft smile his face.

After some more preparations, they had made their way to Varadero, Cuba.

Within an hour of their arrival, there had been gallons of tears, a kitchen table full of food, and enough hugs and kisses to last a lifetime.

It was just past lunchtime on a warm, humid day. After they all ate, and after Lance made sure to introduce his earth family to his space family and vice versa, Lance had went over to the living room to make a huge show of how big his nieces and nephews had gotten. Hunk, who Lance had brought over for a full month the summer after their first year at the Garrison, had found his regular place in Lance’s family: charming Lance’s mother and filling her in on his perspective of every single event of Lance’s life that she hadn’t been there to witness. In a short amount of time, Allura had garnered a small audience of her own as she expressed her awe of everyday Earth appliances and Lance’s family expressed their awe at Allura’s radiant personality and celestial beauty. Lance was nothing if not proud.

Some time had since passed when Lance’s mother exclaimed, “That’s a great idea!” Then, looking at Lance, said, “Lancey, why don’t you take your friends to Varadero Beach?”

Lance lit up. _Varadero_. He almost didn’t believe it. He wasn’t galaxies away from his favorite place in the world anymore. He could actually get up and take a five minute walk to paradise again. He scanned the room to gauge everyone’s reactions, and spotted Shiro, trying his best to look enthusiastic, but looking more like he needed a one-thousand year nap.

“Yeah, yeah, for sure,” Lance said. “If everyone’s up for it, meet me outside in ten. I just gotta.…” Lance trailed off.

The commotion from everyone shifting from their spots allowed Lance to approach Shiro. “Hey, man, no offense but you look like shit.”

“Language!” Lance’s mom yelled. He’d forgotten that his swearing wouldn’t be lost in the vacuum of space, never to reach his mother’s ears anymore.

“Sorry, Ma!” Lance said before diverting his attention back to Shiro. “Anyways, you’re totally welcome to sleep in my room. Coming back from the dead must be pretty exhausting.”

Shiro looked like he was about to insist otherwise, but ultimately gave up before he could even try. “Thanks, Lance. Means a lot.”

“No problem.” Lance led Shiro to his room, and as his hand touched the door, he immediately regretted it. He hadn’t had a chance to be alone in there since his return, and had forgotten about the huge Shiro poster he had plastered opposite his bed. He had already built momentum to open the door, so there was no going back. Shiro was going to see a five foot tall picture of himself up on Lance’s wall whether either of them liked it or not.

Lance cleared his throat and let Shiro inside. “So, uh, yeah. Just make yourself comfortable, and don’t be scared to ask my mom if you need anything.” He silently scolded himself for talking to this adult man like he was fifteen.

“Thanks, Lance,” Shiro said again. He sat on the bed, looked around, and spotted the poster of himself. Lance had expected some show of discomfort, but Shiro had simply raised his eyebrows.

“You can ignore that,” Lance stammered. “I just-I put that in my room in, like, eighth grade. C-cause, y’know, I wanted to be, like, a pilot ‘n stuff.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “‘Cause of you.”

“Wow,” Shiro said. “Really? I’m honored.” Lance was shocked about how much he sounded like he meant it.

“I mean, yeah,” Lance said, plopping down next to Shiro on the bed. “You’re the reason I applied to the Garrison. You were my hero.”

It was quiet, so Lance took that as his cue to leave, but, then, Shiro spoke.

“Lance,” Shiro said.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you.” He turned so he was facing Lance. “I know it technically wasn’t me, but I still need to apologize. The way I treated you on the ship was not okay. I was hard on you and I shut you down when you tried to speak up. I apologize if I ever made you feel like your voice didn’t matter, because it does. Just like anyone else on the team, I value what you have to say, and I don’t want you to ever feel like that’s not the case.”

Lance thought he was going to faint. “T-that wasn’t you, man, it’s coo--”

“No, Lance, it’s not. You weren’t treated right, and you deserved better.” Shiro put his hand on Lance’s shoulder. “In the time that I’ve come to know you, you have proven yourself to be smart, selfless, and a damn good pilot. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders and a good heart, too. Don’t forget that.”

Lance had to steady his breathing; the complete 180 from how Shiro-- _fake Shiro_ \--treated him compared to what he was saying now was making his head spin. Eventually, he said, “That means a lot, really. At least someone feels that way.”

“What do you mean?”

Lance didn’t want to sour the good mood that Shiro had put him in, so he brushed it off. “Nothing.”

“Alright,” Shiro said. “Well, if you’re ever in need of someone to talk to, I’m here.”

“Thanks, Shiro.”

“Of course, Lance. Now, if you could please go have fun at the beach while I try to sleep off months of death, I would really appreciate it,” Shiro teased.

Lance laughed, grabbed some beach clothes from his dresser, and changed in the bathroom. When he walked out the door towards the front of his house, he felt untouchable. The grin on his face was ear splitting. He couldn’t believe his hero thought so highly of him.

Everyone was waiting outside when Lance emerged from the front door. Allura was in one of his sister’s bikini tops and shorts while Coran sported Lance’s uncle’s god awful red short-shorts and a baggy T-shirt. Call it Altean sorcery, but they both made their respective outfits look like they were meant to wear them. Everyone else settled for T-shirts and shorts. Lance made no effort to hide the Shiro-induced smile still plastered on his face.

“Where’s Keith?” Lance asked.

“He’s hanging out with your _mom_ ,” Hunk said. “He said he’ll come to the beach later.”

Lance eyed Hunk to decide if he was being truthful or if being on Earth had compelled him to make a “your mom” joke for old times’ sake. Deciding it was the former, he didn’t let the slight disappointment get to him. He simply walked past them, yelling over his shoulder, “Now, everyone, please organize yourselves into an orderly fashion and follow Lancey-Lance to the greatest place on Earth. Disneyland has nothing on my turf.”

-

Hours later, and he was spreading all his limbs out on the beach. He’d had time to calm down from his high as all thoughts that didn’t concern Varadero Beach or its inhabitants melted from his mind. On the way, he’d burst into a run, kicked off his shoes the second he heard the sea, and sunk into the sand as soon as he’d reached it. Two shades tanner and an unexpectedly large amount of of introspection later, Lance had come to the conclusion that he was hungry. As he was thinking about getting up to snag himself a burger from the Snack Shack, he felt the air shift and heard the sound of sand beneath someone else’s feet getting louder.

He opened his left eye and peeked to the side, where he spotted Keith walking towards him, illuminated only by the torch that sat ten feet away from them. Keith, who was now taller than Lance, older than Lance (only by two years, but Lance was still bitter that Keith had beat him at something that literally shouldn’t have been possible to compete at), and broader than what should have been legal. He sat down next to Lance and offered him one of the two hot dogs in each of his hands. His heartbeat kicked.

He took the hot dog wordlessly and closed his eyes again.

The trip to Earth had been a muddle of emotions for Lance. The excitement of being home again, the unease at leaving this life he had become quite accustomed to, the loneliness he had felt in the months prior, and Keith. Keith was its own emotion, for Lance was happy for his return, but also nervous. Some days he would do everything in his power to make sure he spent time with Keith, but other days, he would avoid him at all costs. It all depended on how he felt when he woke up.

He wasn’t stupid; he knew Keith’s absence took a toll on him. Keith had made him feel like an important part of the team, Keith had listened to his input when no one else did, Keith could keep up when Lance started an argument. Somewhere along the line, he had stopped fighting Keith for the satisfaction of seeing him angry, but because they both enjoyed the back and forth. Their malicious jabs had turned into playful banter, something that Lance looked forward to every day. And then fake Shiro came back, Lance looked to Keith for advice, Keith made him feel good about himself, then he just up and left. Lance had felt off ever since, as if he were walking around with one leg being six inches shorter than the other.

Once, after a mission, he’d flopped down on his bed, closed his eyes, and whispered, “I miss Keith.” Thinking it was one thing, but admitting it out loud was serious. His feelings existed as vibrations somewhere in the universe, not just the confines of his mind. He said it again, out loud. “I miss Keith.” It didn’t make him feel any better.

And now Keith was back, and he looked like that, and they were on Earth, and Lance had no idea what to do with himself.

Keith was also different in other aspects--he was more talkative, more open. He crossed his arms less. He initiated casual conversation without concern for where it went. It made Lance feel like their conversations were strangely intimate, and it made him want to shove his face in his hands.

“Your mom’s cool,” Keith had said.

“She’ll be honored to hear that, especially since _your_ mom is evidently some badass Galra rebel.” Keith smiled. “No, but really,” Lance continued. “My mom’s the best. I’m glad she likes you.”

“Me too,” Keith said, and he sounded like he meant it. He took a huge bite into his hot dog. “I never really thought I was the type that moms liked.”

“What did you guys talk about?” Lance took a bite out of his own hot dog.

“You,” Keith said casually, y’know, like an asshole. Lance choked. Keith smiled, peering at Lance from the corner of his eye.

“What specifically about me?” Suspicion dripped from his voice.

“I always thought that the whole ‘moms whipping out their kids’ baby photo albums’ thing was just on TV, but…” Keith trailed off, smile growing wider as Lance’s eyebrows shot up. Keith had also been smiling a lot more lately.

Lance quickly gathered his composure. After all, he had nothing to be embarrassed about: he was an adorable baby. “I was cute, right?” Lance asked. It was a rhetorical question, since he knew no one could deny his superior baby status.

“Oh, yeah,” Keith said. “That photo of you puking in the bathtub is _adorable_.”

Lance’s eyebrows shot up so fast he was surprised they didn’t fly clean off his face. His mom had only ever showed that photo to one other person: a girl named Selina who Lance had had his first date with. His mom knew about Keith; Lance had ranted about him for basically the whole summer after his first year at the Garrison. She didn’t know where they stood currently, so he counted this as a betrayal.

“Oh,” Keith continued, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he laughed, “and the one where you’re at the amusement park. I can’t believe your mom got the picture right before the bird poop landed on your--”

Lance tackled Keith with his free arm, careful to keep both of their hot dogs intact, but he couldn’t help letting out a small laugh himself. That picture _was_ pretty funny. “Listen,” he said, trying to sound as intimidating as possible through his laughter. “If you mention that to anyone, I’ll kill you on the spot.”

Lance leaned back on his arm, deciding that a one-armed attack would do no good. “I still bet I was a cuter baby than you.” He took another bite of his hot dog and talked with a full mouth. “I bet you popped out with a mullet.”

“Actually,” Keith said, “I kinda did.”

Lance looked for any signs of humor on his face. “Are you messing with me, man?”

“Nope. Back when I was with my mom and I was getting all those flashes of my past, I saw myself as a baby.” He picked at the hot dog foil. “And, like, of course I was freaking out because it was so trippy and it was happening so fast. But I saw baby me, and I saw my hair and I couldn’t help thinking in the back of my head, ‘Lance would _love_ this.’”

“You, my good man, were correct. I’m gonna need your mom to photocopy and hand over any baby pics so I can hold them over your head for the next eternity.”

“I actually think I might have some at my old place by the Garrison that I kinda forgot about,” Keith said.

“Where, exactly?”

Keith didn’t say anything.

“Keith.” Keith smiled and took the last bite of his hot dog. “Keith, where are the pictures,” Lance persisted.

“I told you I forgot about them,” he said. “I don’t know where they are.”

“Keith, _please_ , my livelihood depends on this.”

“You’ll have to look for them yourself,” Keith said. “No way I’m handing over such damning evidence.”

Lance rolled his eyes, smirked and looked out over the crashing waves. As the moon pulled the tide, it also tugged at something in Lance, and he felt compelled to say something that he would have once been terrified him to admit to Keith.

“I missed you,” Lance said.

Anyone could see that Keith had changed during his time away. He was still Keith, but he’d become more calm. He’d become more sure. He’d matured.

Which was why Lance couldn’t believe he was still pulling this shit.

“You what?”

“I said I missed you.”

“I-I’m sorry, there seems to be static or something,” Keith pushed. “I can’t really hear you.”

“Sta--We’re sitting right next to each other!” Lance squawked. “You just handed me a hot dog!”

“I handed you a _what_?”

“I missed you, Keith!” Lance yelled, and despite his disbelief, he just had to laugh. And when he did, it was like a wall came down with it. Like every barrier he had ever put up in order to convince himself he hated this boy had disintegrated, because, in reality, he had spent way too much time worrying about him just to continue pretending to be his enemy. “I missed you and your stupid mullet, okay?”

Keith was grinning back at Lance. “I missed you too. I missed everyone.”

“Okay, but you’re just talking to me right now, so try again.”

“Right,” Keith said, then cleared his throat. “Sorry. What I meant to say was, I missed you too, Lance.”

“Better.” Lance nodded at Keith to show his approval, and his eyes unwillingly darted to the scar on his cheek. Keith hadn’t talked much (or at all) about it. All Lance knew was that he’d gone to save Shiro and when he came back, he was sporting a cut along the length of his face.

Keith stood up and brushed his jeans off, dragging Lance out of his stupor. “You coming?”

“I’ll catch up with you later,” Lance said. “But we have unfinished business. Don’t think I will rest knowing there are baby mullet Keith photos just sitting there, collecting dust, with no one to look after them.”

“Okay, Lance,” Keith said. He lingered for a moment, as if he might stay. Lance wanted to ask him to, but before he could force the words out, Keith had turned around, waving to Lance over his shoulder.

The sky had long since gone dark, but it was a summer kind of dark, where the sky never really went to sleep, yet the stars shone just the same. The beach was illuminated by torches, campfires, and the waxing moon. Lance hadn’t noticed just how fast his heart had been beating. He dug his feet into the sand and looked up at the stars, into the space that had once felt so distant, but was now somewhere he had flown in, fought in, lived in. Everything that was once constant to him was now different; the stars, the sand. He closed his eyes and, not for the first time in his life, he saw Keith behind his eyelids.

-

June 30

“...and eggs, shrimp, croutons… what am I forgetting? Are you getting this all down?”

Lance’s mom was reading off her grocery list out loud. She had been too busy to go to the grocery store herself, so she’d enlisted help from one of her children. Or, at least, that’s what Lance had assumed as he walked through the front door after a satisfying stargazing session on his beach.

“Oh,” his mother had said in a hushed voice. “And don’t forget to ask the bakery about the c--”

“Keith?” Lance said, then turned back to his mother. “What, were Veronica and Nic busy?” Lance had nothing against Keith helping his mother out with one of her million things to do, but why had she asked him when there were a dozen other people in the house?

“They’re both working,” she said.

Lance was pretty sure he accidentally kicked a rock into his sister, Veronica’s car in the driveway just moments ago. “Uh, huh,” he said. “Well, I’m back now. I can come with, if you want.”

Lance’s mom and Keith both shifted.

“Or, uh, not. If you don’t want me to.” Lance started his way out.

“No, Lance,” Keith said. “I do want you. To come.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Let me just grab my jacket.”

When Keith left--ran--from the room, Lance turned to face his mom.

He raised his eyebrow. She raised hers. Lance put his hand on his hip. So did she. When Lance remembered he was dealing with the woman who raised him, meaning he wouldn’t be winning this game in this lifetime, he decided to just come out with it.

“So, what was that about?”

“What, sweetie?” Her feigned innocence sickened him.

“Why is Keith running your errands?”

“I told you, Veronica and Nic are at work.”

“Veronica’s car is in the driveway,” Lance said. Checkmate.

“Nic drove her to work,” she said cooly. “Y’know, it’s good for the environment.” Damn, she was good. Nic had asked for a compost bin for his 16th birthday.

Lance stared at her. She stared back. He tried to bolt upstairs to check Veronica’s room, but his mom ran to block him before he could make it to the kitchen door. In doing so, she incriminated herself, and gave Lance way to officially deem the situation Fishy. However, if he couldn’t get past her, he couldn’t get the evidence, and it would all be for nothing.

Keith had returned to see Lance and his mother both posed for battle. “Um,” he said. “I can come ba--”

“No, Keith, take Lance to the store.” Lance’s mom said, one hand still keeping Lance at bay, the other snapping at Keith. Lance’s heart tugged when he heard his mom say Keith’s name, but he ignored it. Not important when he was seeking truth.

Lance walked towards Keith, but his eyes stayed on his mother, who was backing out of the kitchen. She stood in front of the stairway, which meant Lance had no hope of breaking off and busting Veronica’s door down. He decided he would just have to get the truth out of Keith.

When they made it outside, Keith’s hoverbike was parked in a space hidden by Veronica’s car.

Keith brought it around and waited for Lance to get on behind him. Any interrogation that Lance had prepared had suffocated and died in his throat.

He sat on the bike, hands at his sides.

“Lance,” Keith said. “You can hold onto me. I don’t mind.”

Lance wanted to. “I’m good,” he said.

Keith was quiet for a moment. “Okay,” he said at last. “Then grab the bar behind you.”

Lance did so, silently cursing himself, and they were off.

Keith made the turn out of the driveway, and Lance’s hands immediately flew around his waist. Did Keith laugh, or had Lance imagined it?

“Do you even know where the grocery store is?” Lance yelled over the wind.

“Your mom gave me directions.”

“Well, either she was messing with your head or you weren’t paying attention,” Lance said. “‘Cause you’re going the opposite way.”

“Shit,” Keith said. He turned the bike around, tilting them almost horizontally. Lance scooted closer and held tighter for dear life.

He’d ended up having to yell the directions in Keith’s ear, but, eventually, they’d made it.

Keith parked his bike. “Lance,” he said. The smile in his voice was loud.

“Yes?”

“You can let go.”

 _Don’t wanna_. He let go.

When they got up, Keith pulled the shopping list from his back pocket.

Lance tried to peer over to see what they were shopping for, but Keith quickly folded the sheet up and hid it away. Lance squinted at him.

Lance grabbed a shopping cart and they walked inside. This had been the grocery store that Lance grew up with. They had apparently done some remodeling, but it was still essentially the same as always.

“What’s first on the list?” Lance asked. He grabbed the edges of the cart, stepping up on the foot stand and rolling forward.

Keith, a few paces behind him, mumbled something.

“What?”

“Uh, eggs.”

One by one, they went through the list, and over time, Lance was reminded of how extremely boring grocery shopping was.

“Wanna play a game?” he asked Keith.

“Kinda busy,” Keith said, eyes studying the grocery list. “Gotta get this done.”

Lance loved that Keith took his mother’s assignment so seriously. Fortunately, he was her child and didn’t have to. “The store’s not going anywhere.”

“Bu--” Keith cut himself off. “Okay, what game?”

“I dunno, hide and seek?”

“Sure, if you seek.”

“Trying to get rid of me?”

“Actually, I’m just trying to find all this stuff,” Keith said, waving the list around so that Lance could see it, but fast enough that he couldn’t read it. “I can’t look for you _and_ garbanzo beans at the same time.”

“Fair enough. You get a 15 second head start.”

“Hold on, give me the cart so I can pick stuff up,” Keith said.

“Get your own cart, this is my patrol vehicle.” Lance closed his eyes and heard Keith groan before leaving to hide.

When Lance opened his eyes 10 seconds later, he found himself alone in the aisle.

He began his hunt for Keith. His first destination was obviously where they kept the beans, but he came up empty. Chips aisle? Bust. Breakfast aisle? Nothing. He stopped to try the samples left out by the seafood.

Lance pushed on the shopping cart, gliding through aisles as he hunted for Keith. He rounded a corner and found himself in the bakery. He immediately spotted Keith standing in plain sight. Lance didn’t know if he really put no effort in hiding or if he was just awful at this game, but all that mattered was that he won.

He’d planned to simply stand by Keith until he noticed he’d been caught, but as he drew closer, he heard him speaking to the man working behind the cake display.

“...cookies n’ cream, blue frosting on the--”

“Keith!”

Keith jumped, his head whipping around.

“Lance!” he said. “Where’d you come from?

“Oh, y’know, just lurking in the shadows.”

Keith walked away from the bakery man without finishing what he was saying.

Lance followed him, still riding his shopping cart. “So, what was that about?”

“What was what about?”

“You were asking the bakery dude something.”

“Uh,” Keith started. “Just asking him which ice cream I should buy.”

“Uh huh,” Lance said, glancing into Keith’s ice cream-less shopping cart. “So, were you even trying to hide?”

“There was no point,” Keith said, pushing off on his own cart so he was rolling ahead of Lance. “I knew you’d find me,” he yelled over his shoulder.

That shut Lance up.

They continued going through the ever mysterious shopping list, Lance searching for anything unusual in its contents and coming up short. Then, when they were done, they paid and stepped outside into the warm summer night. After loading everything onto the back of Keith’s bike, dread started to fill Lance. He didn’t want to leave. Keith hadn’t shown any indication that he didn’t want Lance’s company, but who’s to say he wouldn’t rush off to be on his own the second they got back?

Instead of taking his shopping cart back, Lance climbed inside and pulled his knees to his chest.

“What are you doing?” Keith asked.

“It’s nice out,” Lance said. For some reason, he couldn’t look directly at Keith. “Wanna stay a while?”

He prepared for a “Maybe another time, Lance,” or a “Not in the mood, Lance.” Instead, Keith pulled the cart onto a less slanted piece of ground, made sure it was secure, and climbed inside to sit with Lance. Their legs were too long; even with their knees pulled close to themselves, they still touched. Still, Lance was happy.

“Hi,” Lance said.

Keith smiled. “Hi.”

“So, how are you liking it here? On Varadero?”

“It’s nice,” Keith said. “It’s like--like there was no better place to remind me how great Earth is. If that makes sense.”

“Believe me, it does.”

Keith had been so--gone. So present in Lance’s life at the Garrison, then, poof, he pops Iverson in the eye and gets expelled on sight, leaving nothing but a trail of glory behind him. Just when Lance had finally thought he could spend one night without Keith on his mind, he shows up again, blowing up explosions and breaking into a Garrison facility. Then, they’d been on a team together. They trained together, fought together. Then, again, poof.

Now squished up in this shopping cart together, Lance felt his presence, and it felt like relief.

“What about you?”

“ _Me_? How am _I_ liking Varadero?”

Keith shrugged.

“I suddenly have the urge to burst into tears and hug every tree I pass by, that’s how I’m liking it,” Lance said, laughing a little. “Like I never want to let my feet leave the ground again.”

“Ever?”

“Well, not _ever_. Obviously that’s not possible,” Lance said. “I have to walk, surf, jump probably--”

“Are you planning on staying on Earth for good?”

Lance was stunned. He hadn’t even let himself consider that an option. But now, as Keith suggested it, it was like he was offering Lance a choice. He hesitated. “Would it matter?”

“Are you?”

“No,” Lance said. “I wasn’t. But--” he exhaled. “I could. Shiro’s back for real. You’re back, hopefully for good. I could--”

“No,” Keith said. “You couldn’t.”

“What?”

“We started out with the seven of us. Shiro, Hunk, Pidge, Allura, Coran, me, and you. There was always a place for all of us on the team, and there always will be. The universe needs you. It will always need you. We need you.”

Lance hated himself for hoping Keith would follow up, would run a hand over his leg and say, _I need you._

Lance let his head fall back and sighed, gazing up at the stars. “Can you believe we were up there?” he asked. “Now that we’re back, it almost feels like a dream. Like all the science biz, the mechanics of space don’t seem real from down here. The stars aren’t huge balls of gas. They’re just stars.”

“What brought this on?”

“I just--I kind of--well. I guess... I died.”

_“What?”_

“Yeah,” Lance said, closing his eyes. “It’s fine, I’m here, I’m oka--alive, obviously. Allura brought me back. And it’s like, I don’t know, after that, I’m just looking at things differently. Because, if it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t be looking at anything at all.” He opened them again.

“I can’t believe I didn’t know about this.”

Lance decided not to comment on that. He just continued his spiel. “You ever wish you didn’t know what stars were really made of? Like you could just stare from down here, _never_ get close, just believe they are what they look like?

When he looked back down, Keith had his eyes trained on Lance. “No,” he said finally. He didn’t look away.

“What?” Lance asked.

If Keith was bothered that Lance had picked up on his gaze, he didn’t show it. The look on his face was indecipherable, made more so by the night. He stared at him for one more beat before saying, “Nothing.”

Lance wasn’t oblivious. In normal circumstances, he wouldn’t brush off anyone gazing at him that way--at worst, he’d pretend it didn’t happen and lock the memory up in the deepest confines of his mind, but he wouldn’t just forget. However, at the moment, he was having trouble believing anyone would find him more interesting to look at than the millions of stars in the sky.

So all he said was, “Okay.”

Lance didn’t want to leave, but he didn’t want to keep Keith prisoner either. He sighed. “Should we go, then?”

Keith was still looking at Lance, but Lance’s eyes had found their way from the sky to his own feet. “We don’t have to,” Keith said. “Not yet, at least.”

-

July 2

The truth was, neither Keith nor Lance were very useful in the projects that had brought the paladins and Coran back to Earth in the first place. They both shone on the battlefield, their quick wits and flying skills coming into play when they were most needed. They could act as brawn when cargo needed to be moved and Hunk didn’t feel like doing all the dirty work (Coran was out of commission, too, in that department--something about a broken spine while trying to lift a Balmera gem, but Keith and Lance had talked it over and concluded that they both called bullshit). Other than that, they could mostly just offer moral support and layman’s opinions.

As a result, they ended up spending a lot of time together.

Lance suspected it would have happened this way regardless. Before Keith had returned, Lance had, on more than one occasion, stared into space, ruefully wishing Keith was there to bother him.

Now on Earth, Lance would spend mornings at his beach, either sitting alone or catching up with pre-Garrison friends, most of which frequented the beach as much as he had once. Then, at night, he and Keith would find each other. Some days it was the opposite: when the sun was up, one could find Lance and Keith in the midst some kind of activity, whether it be sparring, playing sports with Lance’s siblings, or even playing chess (they had yet to finish a single game). Sometimes they would play cards with Lance’s mom and uncle, who were both notorious cheaters. But now, Lance had Keith at his side, and they gave their cheating opponents a run for their dirty money. Then, at night, Keith would resign to spend time with Shiro, his wolf, Krolia, or all three, and Lance would either watch a movie with his mom or head to Varadero Beach again.

Other days, he spent alone or with his family. Despite the shuffling routines, one thing always stayed the same: Lance always found his feet guiding him to his beach at least once every day, and many nights saw Lance laying in the sand, basking in the stars.

Nights on Varadero were a dangerous setting for Lance: it was just too easy for him to become sentimental under a starry night with the crashing waves encouraging him to pour out his heart and soul, even if it was to himself.

Tonight was one of those nights. He was tired, awoken early that morning by the still unfamiliar familiarity of his bed, and was unable to fall back asleep. He sat on the beach, running his hands along the sand, trying to familiarize himself with it once again. He found himself thinking about Keith more and more. _How much time had been lost when he was away?_ Lance yawned. _Where they would be now, had Keith never left?_ Lance laid on his back. _Did Keith really miss Lance as much as Lance had missed Keith?_ He started feeling drowsy. _Had Keith always smelled so good?_ His eyes fluttered shut. _What was he thinking about right now?_

-

July 3

“Shiro, I wanted to talk to you about something.” Lance had his head poked inside the makeshift guest room that his family had prepared upon their arrival. What used to be Lance’s nephew’s room was now where Shiro was sleeping. “I-it’s a little--personal,” Lance continued, “And I’m still working through it myself, I guess? But I just--I don’t know.”

“Of course,” Shiro said, moving over from where he was sitting on the bed (Lance thought that he might have been staring off into space before his arrival). “What’s up?”

So Lance sat down and started to ramble. “Well, I hate to bother you about something like this, and I _would_ just talk to Hunk about it, but he’s been spending so much time with Pidge lately and her asshole tendencies have started to rub off on him,” he began. “It’s whatever if we’re just hanging out, but sometimes they just push it too far and, like, he’s still my best buddy, but I don’t know, I just don’t want to talk to him about stuff like this anymore--but that’s not what I came to talk about.”

“It’s no bother at all, Lance,” Shiro said.

Lance smiled at him, to which Shiro remained silent, waiting for Lance to collect himself. Lance took in a breath, exhaled heavily, and groaned. “I don’t know, man,” he started. “You know Allura and I have always had this thing--or, I’ve had a thing for her. And even though, yeah, before I got to know her it was just a stupid crush. But then I really started to fall for her. Like, hard.”

Lance looked at Shiro through the corner of his eye, and Shiro was looking back at him in a way that was so unconditionally supportive, it almost made Lance want to cry. “The thing is, like, I told myself I finally need to get over her. A-and I’m working on it. And it sucks and stuff, but like, I don’t know.” Lance took another exasperated breath. “Like--okay. Basically, now that Keith’s back, I’m just feeling confused about a lot of things.” Lance stopped there, because it was one thing for him to think these things to himself when he was alone with no witnesses, but it was another to say them out loud when the person he most admires was sitting one foot away, looking directly at him.

“Confused how?” Shiro asked carefully, like Lance was a vase that could easily shatter, and also like he already had an idea about the answer.

“Confused like--like this morning I was walking down the stairs, and I saw Keith in the kitchen, right. He was talking to my _mom_. He was leaning on the counter and sipping the tea that she doesn’t let _anyone_ drink--it’s the expensive kind from Whole Foods, she orders it online, it’s a huge deal--and they were talking about something that I couldn’t hear.” Lance steeled himself like simply recounting the memory was enough to set him off. “An-and then my mom’s pulling some food out of the oven ‘cause it started burning--that happens whenever she cooks--and while she’s fanning the smoke away, he, like, he sets his mug down and grabs our extra oven mitts and _helps her._ Like, how does he even know where they’re stored? And I’m standing there like an idiot, like my toothbrush is in my hand, I’m wearing a freakin’ bright orange Naruto T-shirt because I was thinkin,’ ‘Hey, there’s no one here that I need to impress anymore, might as well wear whatever.’ But then, I go back upstairs to change my clothes and _fix my hair_. That’s what I mean by confused.”

Shiro closed his eyes and smiled like he understood something that Lance should be understanding. Or worse--he understood something that Lance _feared_ he should be understanding.

“I see,” Shiro said. “Have you talked to Keith a lot, lately?”

“All the time,” Lance said without hesitating. “It’s so weird, like he just filled this huge gap that felt like it was always there. Like, his absence was just so _heavy_. And most days, he’s the first person after my mom that I look for in the morning, but other days, I steer clear of him because I’m, like, scared I’m gonna ruin something, but I don’t know what it is.”

“I see,” Shiro said again. “And was there ever an instance where you felt this way towards someone else?”

“I guess...” Lance started. “Allura?” He said it as a question, when he knew it was an answer.

“Okay,” Shiro said. “So, correct me if I’m wrong, what I’m hearing is that you have feelings for Keith, then?”

“Wh--” Lance started, but for some reason, he couldn’t outright deny it. “I--I don’t know.” His breathing became labored.

“That’s okay,” Shiro said. “It’s okay, Lance. You don’t need to completely understand your feelings right away. Just relax and think about it. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready to talk.”

“Okay,” Lance said, standing up. “Okay, I’ll see you later.”

-

July 6

Lance walked upstairs to his room and climbed out his window, not wanting to risk being seen going through the front door. From there, he walked to Varadero Beach. He closed his eyes and let his feet lead the way just like he used to, then opened them one minute later after realizing how stupid that was. _How had he never been hit by a car?_ So, instead of letting his instincts guide him, he decided to be present and take in all of his surroundings.

Everything was familiar and distant at all at once. He was taller, older, different, and he would have to wiggle around to make a space for himself once again. His legs were longer; it wouldn’t take 2,326 steps, give or take, to get to his beach anymore. He would have to recount on his way back.

In time, he made it. Varadero Beach was exactly the same as when he’d left it the day before. He had been so used to change, to waking up in completely different galaxies, that he had trouble not being surprised by this. When his mother had first suggested they all go to his beach, Lance had abandoned being a tour guide in favor of running straight in that direction. The Snack Shack, the Surf Shop, even Samara, his old crush from the first summer he lifeguarded there, was still there ignoring her only two responsibilities, waxing surfboards and assembling skateboards, just like old times. The relief and pure joy that flooded him returned every time that he set foot on the sand. He wondered if he would feel like that every time he came here from now on.

He spotted Samara, and was ready to charm her into letting him borrow a surfboard for free. He walked towards the shack, waving back when Samara waved first and beckoned him over.

“Hey, Lance,” She said, hopping up to sit on the counter.

“Hey,” he answered. “How goes it?”

“It goes, it goes.”

Lance nodded and leaned his elbows beside her, ready to make his pitch on why he deserves to surf for free on account of his recent and temporary return from an intergalactic war.

As he opened his mouth to speak, the words died in his throat as the back door opened. Out walked a guy who looked irritatingly familiar. He was tall and broad with long hair and dark skin.

“ _Lance_? It’s Mateo! What’s _up_ man?”

Lance’s jaw dropped. “ _Mateo_? Dude, you look _good_! How are you?” Mateo had been one of Lance’s classmates. He had also been short, awkward, and near sighted. This Mateo was much taller and much less bespeckled.

Mateo walked over to throw an arm over Lance’s shoulder. “Dude, you’re all over the news. Fighting freakin’ aliens and shit. That’s crazy, man. I’ll tell you, when we heard you went missing, you could tell the whole school was down. Now you’re all everyone talks about!”

Normally, Lance would puff up and bask in his current hero status at his old school, but at the moment, he was actually in the midst of FSO (Figuring Shit Out), and Newly Hot Mateo’s arm around Lance’s shoulder wasn’t helping him keep a clear head.

So, when Mateo retreated to do the work that Samara wasn’t doing, instead of surfing, Lance hopped up on the counter next to Samara and half listened to her talk about kids from their middle school that she was now going into senior year with. All the while, he was not-so-subtly staring at Mateo reorganize the shop, an expression on his face like he was deciding the best course for bullshitting an answer on a chemistry exam.

Lance had been fixated on boys more than once. The difference now was that, instead of meeting these thoughts with hasty dismissals, he was actually open to the idea. Open to accepting that he might have always felt a certain way towards certain people, rather than simply repressing that possible truth and sitting on it. _Why now?_ he’d asked himself, but he knew the answer. A familiar mullet kept finding its way into his dreams. His shoulder ached for the touch that he’d pretended not to know, but wished he could be familiar with.

Mateo was good looking, but anyone could see that. But could Lance see himself kissing this guy, flirting with this guy, hoping he flirts _back_? He turned around so he was facing Lance and Samara and rolled his shoulders back once. Lance’s stomach turned. Okay. _Yeah_.

“So,” Lance said, sliding off the counter. “I--uh--I actually forgot that my dog wanted me to, um, walk the mom, so I gotta go. But I… will catch up with you guys… later.” He flashed his finger guns and prepared to make a mad dash. He needed to reconvene with himself before his mind lost both the momentum and the nerve.

“Aw, you got a dog?” Samara asked, oblivious to his incoherence.

Lance technically wasn’t lying. He had a cow. And if that didn’t count, Keith had a teleporting space wolf and was currently living under Lance’s roof… so… “Yeah.”

“Cute, you’ll have to let me meet him!”

“Will do.”

“Nice seeing you, Lance!” Mateo yelled.

“You too,” Lance croaked, dashing out onto the sand.

He went far enough that he would be out of Mateo and Samara’s line of sight, ditched his shirt and shoes, ran into the water, and began his self-analysis.

 _Okay so, girls,_ he started, floating along with the tide. _Love ‘em. Always have, always will. Guys? Okay, well, I didn’t bolt out of the Surf Shop because the dude was looking overwhelmingly mediocre to me or anything. Who are some attractive guys in my life? Shiro? Duh, but who wouldn’t want to make out with Shiro? You’d have to be insane not to. But he’s, like, 50, so. There’s Chris Hemsworth. He’s old as hell now, but he did look good in Thor: Ragnarok. Coran? Ew, haha--well, okay, actually--_

He could practically see the math equations hovering around his head.

 _Okay, focus! So, boys. Boys, boys, boys. Boys, boys, boys, boys, boys._ He felt a bit excited every time he repeated the word in his head. _I guess that would explain my old obsession with Hugh Jackman after I watched Logan. And why I used to stare at the poster of Shiro before I fell asleep at night. And why I wouldn’t admit to Keit--Oh, my god, Lance. You idiot. You called him grizzled._

_Okay, okay. Okay, I like guys, too?_

_Okay._

-

When he finally began the trip home, the sun was well on its way to setting. Lance felt excited; he shook his arms out at his sides, shook his head, covered his face with his hands.

There was a tire swing in front of his house. It was there that he once broke his arm from trying to stand atop it. It was there that he cried out of frustration while trying to teach himself English for his Garrison entrance exam. It was there that he sat for hours before he finally opened his acceptance letter to the Garrison. When everything else in Varadero had meant stability, familiarity, consistency, this tire swing was the place for growth, for change, for walking through doors and locking them from the outside.

He sat on the swing and stared at the ground for what felt like forever. Then he looked around, making sure no one was there to hear him. He looked back down at his hands, then steadied himself. He closed his eyes. “I’m bisexual,” he whispered, for he couldn’t say it out loud just yet. Then, again, in a whisper a bit louder. “I’m bisexual.” He opened his eyes. He wanted to hear it in his own voice. He looked around once more and took a deep breath. Then, aloud, he said it again: “I’m bisexual.” There. It was out in the universe.

He sat in silence and, when he was ready, he stood up and made his way into the house. Normally, his mom would laugh and spin him all the way around if Lance dared step foot in the house still wet from a day in the ocean, but coming back home after spending a year thousands of galaxies from home meant that he could get away with certain things. So he walked through the front door and up the stairs, hoping Shiro was alone and willing to talk.

He knocked on the door. Shiro’s voice came out from inside. “Yes?”

“It’s me,” Lance said, walking inside. Shiro was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.

“A-are you doin’ alright, man?” Lance asked. Shiro had left his room to talk to the team and Lance’s family a number of times, but Lance would always find him silently excusing himself to retreat upstairs. Lance also rarely saw him eating, despite his mother’s best efforts to feed him.

“Yeah,” Shiro said. “Just getting used to everything again.”

“Man,” Lance said. “You gotta let my grandma get some food in you. You need to build up your strength if you want to feel better. Besides, you don’t know how much it kills her when you don’t eat what she makes.” The last part was a final resort, because no one with a heart or soul could bear to hurt Lance’s grandmother’s feelings.

Shiro laughed. “Okay, Lance, I’ll eat. Is that all you wanted to talk about?”

“No,” Lance said. “But if you’re not doing alright, you know you have people who are here for you, right?”

“I know,” Shiro said. “Thank you for caring. So, what’s up?”

Lance wrung his hands together and walked over to the bed, where Shiro had already made a spot for him to sit.

Lance took a deep breath, thinking he might throw up. Shiro waited for Lance to speak, and Lance cursed him silently for being so patient and considerate.

Lance didn’t know where to start, so he just said what first came to mind. “Remember when Keith got all mad at me because I said I didn’t remember him punching Sendak and him allegedly cradling me in his arms?”

“Yes,” Shiro said, smiling at the memory.

“Well, I did--remember,” Lance said. “And I said I didn’t because--because when he went to see if I was okay, he grabbed my hand and sat beside me and--and I was too exhausted to put up a front. But I felt weird. Not weird, but--but different. Like, then and there, I wanted to tear down every wall that I’d built and--I don’t know. The point is, I felt something. And I wasn’t ready to accept it. And I don’t know if it was because it was towards Keith specifically or because of myself but... Basically I’ve had some time to think.”

Shiro waited for Lance’s conclusion, and Lance knew stammering wouldn’t get him anywhere, so he just decided to say it all at once.

“I think--no, I _am_ bisexual. And I have feelings for Keith.” Lance’s own jaw dropped after he spoke, something that apparently cracked Shiro up. He placed his hand on Lance’s shoulder and squeezed it. It was amazing how such little contact could make Lance feel so supported.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but you should have seen your face.” Shiro quickly sobered up. “But, really, Lance, I’m so proud of you.”

“Really?” Lance said, voice heavy.

“Of course,” Shiro said.

Lance shook his head, then laughed to himself. “I don’t really know what to do now.”

“Just own it,” Shiro said. “If anyone has anything bad to say, know they’re not worth a second of your time. You are who you are. When I look at you, I see someone who will go to the ends of the universe to defend people in need, a wonderful friend, and a brave soul. I’ve also noticed how you often put others first, so I’m glad you’ve had this chance to learn something about yourself.”

Shiro stood up.

“Where are you headed?” Lance asked.

“I need some food in me, and you need to practice owning it.”

“Uh… I don’t think I’m ready to announce my sexuality to the world just yet.”

“There are many ways to own it,” Shiro said. “Simply walking around with your head held high after accepting something relatively new to you can work wonders.”

Lance stood up to follow Shiro, consciously fixing his posture. Shiro threw his arm around Lance’s shoulder and ruffled his hair.

“By the way,” Shiro said on their way out, arm still slung around Lance’s shoulder. “You know that I’m legally obligated to help you with your Keith situation whether you like it or not.”

Lance covered his face and groaned. “I really have to deal with this, don’t I.”

“Eyes up, Mcclain!” Shiro said. “We’re _owning_ it!”

Lance removed his hands from his face, and though he held his head high in an exaggerated manner, his wide grin was every bit as genuine as it looked.

-

July 10

There was a knock at Lance’s door. “Lance,” Allura’s voice came from outside. “It’s me.”

Lance’s stomach dropped. Allura had been acting strange around him for months. She had just had her heart broken by Lotor, and in a particularly vulnerable moment, Lance had poured his heart and soul out to the critters that she considered some of her best friends. He put two and two together and decided he had a pretty good idea why she was acting the way she was. He sighed. “Come in.”

“Hi, Lance,” she said, walking in and sitting on the bed next to him. “How are you?”

“Alright,” he said. And he was. “You?”

“Well, honestly, I’ve been better,” she said. “But your family has been _so_ wonderful.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He wished she would just rip off the band-aid.

“I’ve been meaning to speak with you,” she began. “And, before I start, I just want you to know that I have always respected and admired you,” she said. Her gaze pierced through Lance, like she was making sure her words were drilled into his head. “But, I’m afraid, and I think you might already be aware, that the mice have shared with me a secret that wasn’t theirs to tell.”

Lance didn’t say anything. He couldn’t say anything. So he just let Allura speak.

“You have proven time and time again that you are someone deserving of the utmost respect.” She gripped her knees as she spoke. “Your bravery, your selflessness, your heart, you are like no other. And while you do remind me _so_ much of my father, you are also someone completely your own. I wouldn’t change you for the universe.”

She took his hands in hers. “And I do love you,” she continued, her voice shaking. “So, so much. You’ve become my family. But I’m afraid I cannot return your feelings. Not the way you might have wished. I’m sorry.”

And here, even as Allura was looking him in the eyes, essentially rejecting him, he still smiled as if he were staring at one of the wonders of the universe. Whatever sadness he held upon the closing of this chapter was overshadowed by love. Romantic or not, it was simply impossible spend a year on a ship with Allura and _not_ grow to love her. She was a beacon of light in an otherwise hopelessly endless tunnel. She was kind, charming, strong, so, so strong, with the head of a warrior and the heart of a lion. Even her flaws stemmed from love, from hope, from all things good. Physical beauty be damned--her soul was a blessing to the universe all on its own.

And, as she held Lance’s hands, telling him once and for all that she loved him so much, but could not love him romantically, he found himself thinking, _Who cares?_ Because what she _could_ give him, a platonic love, a familial love, a _real_ love, was the most important love in the universe. He was honored to be loved by Allura.

He wiped a tear from her face and cupped her cheek. “What are you apologizing for?” he whispered. “That is more than enough.”

At this, she closed her eyes, allowing more tears to fall. She held onto Lance’s hand with both of her own. “You will always be my family,” she said. “I hope you never forget how much you mean to me.”

Lance pulled her into a hug, and her arms immediately went to wrap around his neck. Lance let his own tears slide down his face; he didn’t know if they were happy or sad. He thought, maybe, he didn’t need to know. Maybe he and Allura could just cry in each other’s arms.

-

July 13

With his mother reading alone, Shiro working out, Allura and Coran working on the castle-ship with Matt and Sam, and the rest of his family (and _Keith_ ) _(Keith!)_ on some super-top-secret shopping trip, Lance had found himself bored out of his wits.

He’d gone to his beach, hoping to finally go surfing after months and months without so much as touching a surfboard, but, upon arrival at Varadero, he found the ocean treacherously flat. Samara was working (playing video games at the shop’s counter) and was too occupied to offer Lance any stimulating company.

That left Hunk and Pidge, who had been spending dusk till dawn in the green lion, which had been parked in Lance’s backyard and cloaked so as to not startle passing tourists. If he was being honest, Lance had been completely avoiding them as much as possible. As the two of them grew closer, Lance felt more and more like the odd one out, and their tendency to tease anyone within a one mile radius when they were together didn’t do very much good for Lance, especially at such a confusing time.

But, eventually, boredom overpowered all else, and he found himself climbing into the green lion’s cockpit, where he found Pidge and Hunk in the middle of a heated debate.

“Why not?” Pidge had asked.

“Uh, what do you mean, ‘why not,’” Hunk said, his calm voice contrasting with Pidge’s much more excitable tone. “Ignoring the fact that only being able to shoot the laser out of the middle finger definitely wouldn’t be something Shiro would particularly appreciate, if he can shoot it out of his palm, the laser would be much larger and more effective. C’mon, Pidge, it’s just common sense.”

“Okay,” Pidge said. “But it’s not as _fun_.”

“Then build your own arm.”

Pidge stuck her tongue out.

“Hey guys,” Lance said, not sure if either of them would have noticed his presence otherwise.

“Lance!” Hunk said, turning around. “Hey buddy, what’s up? I feel like I haven’t seen you in years.”

“Yeah,” Pidge said. “Who else is gonna back me up when I propose my genius product designs?”

“Hmm,” Lance said, letting himself get into it. “Although I, myself, would love nothing more than a middle finger blaster, I gotta agree with Hunk: a palm blaster is much more efficient.” He walked over and patted Pidge’s head. “And kid-friendly.”

Hunk stuck his tongue out at Pidge.

Pidge grabbed one of the arms that they had assembled and wrapped it in her own. “I’m asking Shiro his opinion.”

“No!” Hunk yelled. “No spoilers!”

“Try and stop me!” Pidge faked left, spun around Lance and dashed out of her lion to ruin Shiro’s surprise.

“I don’t feel like chasing her,” Hunk said, turning back to another arm design. “So, anyways. Where’s _Allura_?” Hunk wiggled his eyebrows.

 _Here we go,_ Lance thought.

“Why would I know?” He tinkered with a loose screw.

“What do you mean?” Hunk pushed. It irked Lance that Hunk didn’t pick up on his tone. “When do you not know what she’s doing?”

 _Nice,_ Lance thought. _Make me seem like some stalker._ “I’m giving her space,” he said. “Is that too hard to believe?”

“I dunno. Now that Lotor’s out of the picture, I thought you would be all over her,” Hunk said, his teasing tone all too familiar to Lance.

“Hm,” Lance said, dropping the screw. He’d reached his limit. “Funny. Thought you knew me better than that. You know Lotor manipulated and betrayed her, right? And I know you and Pidge think I had some shallow obsession with her or something, but believe it or not, I actually care about her wellbeing. I’m there when she wants me to be, and I’m not when she wants to be alone. Oh, but yeah, as long as we’re hooking up, I guess I wouldn’t mind being anyone’s rebound. _It’s all jokes, huh?_ Not like I could actually care about someone _for real_ , or anything. _Well, surprise!_ I didn’t want some stupid fling with her. And, you know, I get Pidge’s teasing--that’s just how she is. But you were supposed to be there for me, and you weren’t. You just made fun of me. I liked Allura a lot, and you and Pidge made me feel like shit about it.” _Past-tense, huh?_ He’d think about that later; for now, he was mad.

“Oh, man,” Hunk said after a few moments. “I really screwed up, didn’t I. I didn’t realize you were that serious about her.”

“Yeah, well,” Lance said.

“It’s like--you know how it is when you spend more than five minutes with Pidge. She’s a little demon and she knows it, you can’t help but get wrapped up in it.”

“That doesn’t really make up for it,” Lance said, all ice.

“I don’t know what you guys are talking about, but Hunk’s right. I can be a little demon. Matt can testify.” Pidge had silently found her way back into the green lion, gracefully accepting Hunk’s character analysis. “Shiro didn’t like the design.”

Lance scoffed and started making his way out of the lion. He never thought the color green would make him so sick.

“We’re talking about how we were assholes to Lance when he was actually going through it with Allura,” Hunk explained. Then, he called out to Lance, “Hey, Lance, c’mon, wait up!”

Lance was almost completely out when he felt Hunk’s hand on his shoulder. Lance turned around, willing the angry tears to keep at bay.

“You’re right,” Hunk said. “I shouldn’t be making excuses. I should know my best buddy and be there for him, not tear him down instead of making sure he’s okay. I’m really sorry.”

Pidge looked at Lance, an actual look of regret in her eyes. “Hey, I’m sorry too, Lance. I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings. I didn’t know it was like that.”

“We should have listened to you when you tried to talk to us. Guess we were too caught up in our own business. But who cares about stupid tech junk when our Lance is down?”

Lance considered the scene before him. Hunk and Pidge _were_ his closest friends. And they did look like they regretted it. He could make them grovel more, but he decided he was above that.

Then, he decided that he _really_ wasn’t.

He turned his nose up and crossed his arms. “Sorry, huh? I had to confide in mice about my heartbreak. _Mice_. Because my so-called best friends made fun of me.” His mouth quirked. _They better have been ready to put on the show of their lives._

Hunk and Pidge got the hint. They each grabbed one of Lance’s hands and held them, heads bowed.

“Please, O Merciful One,” Hunk said. “Grant us your pardon, though we are undeserving.”

“Yes, yes,” Pidge continued. “We are nothing if not unworthy of your forgiveness, but we humbly request it regardless.”

“For a life without Lance, is a life not worth living,” Hunk concluded.

Lance had to admit, Hunk’s closing line did enchant him. “You’re right,” Lance said, nose still turned up. “You are unworthy. But I love you guys, and if you promise to never, ever, ever make fun of me for my feelings…” He stopped to consider. “...or my video game skills, I am willing to ponder _possibly_ forgiving you.”

“The former can be arranged, but you and I both know I can’t stay silent watching you play video games. It’s physically impossible.” Yup, there was the Pidge Lance knew.

Lance retracted his hands and stroked his chin with his fingers, ready to make an equally dramatic show of mercy, when Hunk stopped him.

“But seriously, Lance, I’m really sorry,” he said, putting a hand on Lance’s shoulder.

“Yeah, me too,” Pidge said, taking Lance’s hand again in a less dramatic manner. “You didn’t deserve to get made fun of when you were really hurting.”

“Okay, you guys,” Lance said. “You are officially forgiven.”

They all hugged.

Through the corner of his eye, Lance saw his niece, Sofia, run across the grass through the open cockpit door, meaning everyone had returned from the mysterious shopping trip.

“Alright, later nerds,” Lance said when they all let go of one another. “I’m gonna go make sure Keith isn’t making my mom consider giving me up to make room for him.”

“You’re not gonna hang out with us?” Hunk asked.

“Nah,” Lance said, ducking out of the chamber. “But let me know when you’re actually up for something, y’know, fun.” He knocked on the metal twice as he parted, then walked off to be wherever Keith was.

-

July 16

Once, every few centuries, a miracle happened: the kitchen at Lance’s house was found to be completely unoccupied. One had to find themselves in exactly the right place at the right time, and if one was so lucky as to experience such an astronomical event, it was nothing short of blasphemous to not celebrate.

Lance walked into the kitchen that morning, half asleep and rubbing his stomach, only startled awake by the lack of commotion that ought to be surrounding him. His eyes snapped open, and after the split second of horror at the thought that his family must have been abducted by aliens, a completely different feeling that could only be described as pure ecstacy exploded within him. He could walk in a straight line to grab his cereal! He didn’t have to kiss one million people on the cheek on the way to grab a spoon!

He twirled to the cupboard and said “hello” to the box of Reese’s Puffs that greeted him. He leaped to the fridge and grabbed the almond milk from inside, then shimmied to the dishwasher. From there, he grabbed a spoon and his favorite blue bowl, before concocting the best bowl of cereal anyone has ever made.

When Lance sat at the kitchen table, Shiro walked in.

“Morning, Lance,” Shiro said. He was in workout clothes, and Lance guessed he’d been up for hours, but he also looked exceptionally less worn out than he had just days ago.

“Mornin,’ Shiro,” Lance said through a mouthful of cereal, his good mood only amplified by good company.

Shiro fixed himself his own bowl of cereal and sat across from Lance.

“Someone’s looking chipper,” he noted.

“Guess I woke up on the right side of the bed this morning,” Lance said. “You’re not looking too bad, yourself.”

“Honestly, Lance, I feel great,” he said. “And it’s largely because you encouraged me to get out of bed. So thanks.”

“Of course,” Lance said. “Anytime.”

“So, any plans for the day?”

“Probably gonna try and catch some waves,” Lance decided as soon as Shiro asked. “What are you up to today?”

“Hunk and Pidge are testing out some new arms for me,” Shiro answered. “I just tried to check up on them and see if they wanted some food or water, and to see if they scrapped that middle finger design, but they just accused me of peeking and kicked me out.”

“Yeah, they’re a dangerous pair,” Lance noted.

“No kidding!” Shiro exclaimed. “You know, I spent all morning working on my character’s background when we played Monsters and Mana, and you know what they di--?”

Shiro cut himself off and nodded towards something behind Lance. Lance turned his head and saw Keith grab an apple from a fruit basket. When he turned back around, he saw Shiro rise, giving Lance a small thumbs up, a look on his face that meant absolute business.

“Hey, Shiro,” Keith said.

“Bye, Keith,” Shiro answered.

Lance covered his mouth in shock. He didn’t know if he was more surprised at Shiro’s apparent scheming side or his appalling inability to be subtle about it. He didn’t even take his cereal, for God’s sake.

Keith, oblivious to Shiro’s unnatural departure, sat down where Shiro was and wiped the apple off on his t-shirt before taking a bite.

“Sleep well?” Keith asked.

 _Yeah. I think I had a dream about you but I slept so deeply that I can’t really remember, but I really wish I did. Also, I think I’m falling for you, or, to be honest, I’ve probably been falling for you for a long time. I think you’re wearing one of my uncle’s old T-shirts, and it fits you pretty well. I didn’t know how nice your collarbones were. Also, it’s kind of driving me crazy seeing you in pajamas with your messy hair while you’re sitting in my kitchen. Wanna go on a date tonight?_ Lance thought.

“Yup,” he said.

“That’s good,” Keith covered his mouth, still full of food. “Yeah, your house is like magic, I sleep like a baby. But I do kinda wish there was some action around here, y’know? On Earth, I mean. What are you doing today?”

“Heading to the beach, probably gonna--” His eyebrow quirked. “Wait--any kind of action?”

“Uh…” Keith gave Lance a suspicious look.

“Like, standing on a board riding on nothing but water and dreams kind of action?”

“You wanna go surfi--?”

“Yes, Keith, I would _love_ to go surfing! How did you know?”

“Uh, I don’t know, Lance,” Keith said. “I’ve never surfed before…”

Lance was already standing. “No worries. I was a surf instructor _slash_ lifeguard the summer before we all got whisked away into vast, unforgiving, space,” he said. “I will gladly pass on my knowledge to any willing disciples.”

When Keith still hesitated, Lance knew he had to pull out the big guns. “Well, if you’re not up for a challenge, I understand…”

Lance gave him five seconds, max… 4… 3… 2...

“Okay, I’m in,” Keith said. “But if I drown out there, you’re not invited to my funeral.”

“Don’t worry, guy, I’m the _tailor_. I have yet to meet an untrainable pupil. Meet me outside in fifteen.”

“Do you even have two surfboards?”

“I’ve got it covered,” Lance said, picking up his cereal bowl and quickly washing it in the sink. “Fourteen minutes left!”

Sixteen and a half minutes later, Keith met Lance in the front yard. Lance gave Keith a short lecture on punctuality, and then they were off.

Lance had long since accepted that he would never get used to the song that rang in his heart upon arriving at his beach. If there was one mistake Lance would never repeat, it was taking what is dear to him for granted. He looked at Keith and breathed in the warm air. _I’m home,_ he reminded himself.

“Come on,” Lance said. “We’re going to the Surf Shop.”

“Are we stealing surfboards?”

“Borrowing,” Lance corrected. “A friend of mine works there, she’s super chill, totally cool with lending me stuff and pretending I paid for it.”

When they arrived to the shop, Samara, who had previously looked bored out of her mind, instantly brightened up. “Lance!” she yelled. “And friend!”

“This is Keith,” Lance said. “Keith, Samara, Samara, Keith. Great, we’re all besties, could we borrow some boards?” Lance batted his eyelashes at Samara, who rolled her eyes in retaliation.

“Damn,” she said, feigning offense. “I thought you were here to see me.”

“I come to see you, like, every day,” Lance replied. “Today’s important. I’m teaching Keith to shred.”

Samara sighed and walked to the back of the store.

Lance smiled at Keith. “That means yes. You’re gonna want a big board with a soft top to start out.” He cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders out. “Let the masters find the right fit for you. You just sit back and relax.” Before Lance could stop himself, he winked at Keith.

If he hadn’t immediately looked away in a panic, he might have caught the blush that spread on Keith’s face.

Lance and Samara made their round through the shack on the hunt for the perfect starter board for Keith.

“He’s kinda hot,” Samara whispered to Lance.

“Paws off, lady,” Lance said.

“Something you wanna tell me, Lance?”

Lance took Shiro’s advice and owned it. “Well, basically, I spent over a year in space with this dude, realized I’m bisexual, and I might be falling in love with him,” he said.

“Oh,” Samara said, and when Lance was scared that he’d made a mistake, that he was about to receive some hurtful judgement, she said, “Well, I’m happy for you, Lance. I hope it works out with Keith, even if he has a stupid name.”

Lance continued to look for boards, all of them either too short, too hard, or too not-red (Lance liked to stick to color schemes). “Apparently, he almost got an even wilder name before his dad stepped in, but he refuses to tell me what it is. Ah--” a perfect beginner board, and it was almost the same red as Keith’s paladin armor. Lance mentally patted himself on the back for his attention to detail.

Lance handed Keith his board, then walked to the back corner of the store where his board--which wasn’t really his board, but, really it was pretty much his board--rested. Tall, blue, and majestic, and it was all Lance’s--unless it ever got sold, in which case Lance would never forgive Samara or the Varadero Beach Surf Shop ever again.

“I can wax your boards while you guys suit up,” Samara offered.

Lance put his hand over his heart, genuinely touched that Samara was actually willing to do her job for them. He left their boards and guided Keith to the back of the shop where the rental wetsuits were kept.

Lance picked one for himself that was two sizes bigger than what he’d gotten before his return to Earth. He looked at Keith to gauge his size, and was once again forced to come to terms with his offensively broad shoulders and the two inches Keith now had on him, height wise. His face warmed.

 _You’re a disaster,_ Lance thought to himself as he picked out a suit for Keith to wear. _A disaster._

“This is for you,” he said, praying to whatever god was listening that Keith didn’t hear the crack in his voice. “Fitting room’s behind you.”

Keith retreated into one of the stalls, and Lance went into another, quickly putting his suit on and looking at himself in the mirror. He pointed at his reflection and quietly whispered, “Get it together,” before walking back onto the shop.

Lance leaned on the counter, singing along to the music that played in the shop. After a few minutes, Keith walked out.

“Can you, uh,” Keith gestured to the zipper on his back.

 _Of course,_ Lance thought. Samara wiggled her eyebrows. Lance made a throat-cutting motion with his hand.

He zipped Keith up, taking note of the small moles scattered across his back. He lingered for a second, then two, and so did Keith.

“Your boards are ready!” Samara yelled unnecessarily loud.

Lance rolled his eyes and grabbed his board, ignoring his sweaty palms.

-

“What do you think you’re doing?” Lance yelled after Keith.

“Uh, going into the water?”

“Oh, Keith. Keith, Keith, Keith. You can’t simply run into the ocean with a board and expect to catch a wave.” Lance laid his own board on the sand and gestured for Keith to do the same

When he did, Lance began. “Welcome to Lance’s Shredding Academy, where you will learn to surf waves in a manner that rivals Poseidon himself. Many groms have come from near and far seeking my guidance. It is here that you will find yourself going from grubbing to shredding in a manner of hours. You’re welcome, in advance.”

“What are you saying?” Keith asked.

Lance ignored him. He may have been playing up the surfer slang for the drama, but it didn’t mean he wanted to explain what every word meant. Context clues, people! “Now, if you will, please lay down on your board, stomach down.”

Keith did so. From there, Lance bestowed his surfing knowledge onto Keith. Finally, after making him pop up on his board nearly one hundred times, Lance decided Keith was ready to graduate from sand surfing.

“We’re going to the water. But first, observe.” Lance always gave a short demo before he brought students into the water, but, as he ran into the water, he knew he really had to bring his A game. Oh, he was definitely going to show off. Who would he be if he didn’t?

Muscle memory proved to prevail over a year without practice. He paddled out, briefly worried that his leash wasn’t secure enough around his ankle, that his body would abandon him and he’d wipe out. Then, he saw a wave coming towards him as if it were his personal gift from the ocean. He secured his hands at the edges of the board, and when the time was right, he popped up.

Yeah, he had been concerned with impressing Keith, but the moment the wave caught, he was transported to another world. He grinned madly as he guided his board in harmony with the water. He carved, and it felt so unbelievably good, like the board, the water, the entire ocean was just an extension of himself. He felt like the god of the sea; Poseidon could, quite frankly, suck it. He felt the wave coming to the end, and he drove himself through it, feeling bold, and performed a roundhouse cutback--and completely wiped out.

He resurfaced from underwater, wiping the water from his eyes before cheering out loud for the entire beach to hear. He heard someone cheer back at him, and his head snapped towards shore, where Keith had his hands cupped over his mouth, cheering Lance on.

 _Wow,_ Lance thought. _What a view._

He pushed himself back onto his board and beckoned Keith to join him in the water.

When Keith finally reached him, Lance said, “Okay, Keith. You got this. Ride a few waves just on your stomach just to get a feel, then, when you’re ready, pick a wave and I’ll tell you when to pop up.”

Keith nodded. He did as Lance said and rode a few waves on his stomach. Then, after some time, said, “I’m ready.”

“Great,” Lance said, still sitting on his own board. “Final test: pick a wave.”

Keith waited. After two minutes of judging and dismissing waves, Keith finally pointed, saying, “That one.”

“Good eye,” Lance said. “Okay, lay down. I’ll tell you when.”

When the wave was at just the right distance, Lance yelled, “Now!” and Keith popped up on his board.

Lance had to give it to him: Keith lasted a full second longer than he’d expected him to.

-

“That was _terrible_ ,” Keith said as they walked back to the Surf Shop.

“What are you talking about?” Lance demanded. “You caught two waves and it was only your first day!”

“I fell at least thirty times, though,” Keith retorted. “Not an impressive ratio.”

“That depends on who you’re trying to impress,” Lance said. “Seriously, you’re good.”

Keith brushed him off.

“We’re back,” Lance announced to Samara, who had been fast asleep on the counter.

She waved in acknowledgement. “You know what to do, Lance,” she said, all the while keeping her eyes closed. Mateo had arrived during Lance and Keith’s absence and was graciously picking up Samara’s slack.

“Ignore her,” he said. “I’ll take your boards, you guys can go get changed.”

“Thanks, Mateo,” Lance said, handing him his board.

After Lance and Keith were dressed, Lance thanked Samara and Mateo on their way out.

Before he could get out of reach, Samara pulled Lance close and whispered to him, “You’re a really great guy, Lance. Hopefully Keith sees that.”

“Thanks,” Lance said. “I’ll see you soon.”

Lance waved to her and jogged to catch up to Keith. “Ice cream?” he proposed on their way out. “On me. I’m also friends with a guy from the Snack Shack who can hook us up. _Double scoop._ ”

“Wow, Lance, you’ve got connections,” Keith said.

“Yeah, well, when you grow up on this beach you end up making it your own. Stick with me and you’ll never have to pay for a surf sesh or a hot dog ever again.”

“If you think I’m ever going surfing again you must be out of your mind.”

“What?” Lance was genuinely appalled and borderline offended. “You’re a natural! That was some of my best training work and you want to throw it all away?”

“Are you serious?” Keith asked. “That can’t have been your best work. I almost died, like, three times.”

“Okay, first of all,” Lance pointed two thumbs at himself. “CPR certified. I wouldn’t have let you die. Second of all, surfing isn’t something you pick up in two minutes. It takes time and work, but it’s _fun_.”

Keith still didn’t look convinced. “You made it look so easy.”

“Keith, I learned how to surf before I learned how to walk. I’ve had years to practice, and you caught two waves on your first day.”

“So you really think I’m that good?”

“Yes, Keith,” Lance said. “In fact, the Summer Olympics started, like, last month, but I’m sure we can send a video in and get you on a team. I’ll even be your coach.”

Keith shoved Lance. “Shut up,” he said through a grin.

“No, really!” Lance persisted, shoving his hands in his shorts pockets, walking a few paces forward and turning at an angle to lean in towards Keith. “Say the word and I’ll call them right now.”

“Okay, do it.”

Lance pretended to think. “Actually, you suck. It wouldn’t work out.”

“Satan.”

Lance grinned. “Cute pet name, I’ve never heard that one before.” Lance had never considered he would end up flirting with Keith as much as he did. It sure was more fun than being an awkward mess.

“So, you seem close with that Samara girl,” Keith observed. “How’d you guys meet?”

“She moved to Varadero the summer I started lifeguarding here,” Lance said, a fond smile spread across his face as he recounted his early teen years. “Then she started going to my school, and we got pretty tight. She was actually my first crush.”

“Oh,” was all Keith said.

“Jealous?” Lance teased.

“Just curious,” Keith said calmly.

_Damn, why did Keith have to go off and get all mature?_

They were a few paces behind the Snack Shack. “So, how about that ice cream?”

-

Keith and Lance had gotten their ice cream, free of charge, thanks to Lance. They’d both decided to try new flavors, which they both wound up finding disgusting, and ended up trading entire ice cream cones. After they finished eating, they lingered in the Snack Shack, talking about nothing until the sun set, then made their way back to Lance’s house. Lance counted three separate times that their hands brushed. Was Keith doing it on purpose? 

“Wanna watch a movie?” Lance asked as they walked through the front door.

“What movie?”

“Well, what kind of movies are you into?”

“Anything.”

Lance pondered for a moment. “Are you in the mood to get your heart destroyed?”

“Not really.”

“Well,” Lance said. “I am, so we’re gonna watch Pure Love.”

“Why did you sound like you were about to cry just then?”

“Because, Keith,” Lance said, moving to find the DVD. His family was old fashioned enough to still own one of those. “It’s powerful.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Keith said.

Lance pressed play, ran to grab snacks from the kitchen, then came back just in time for the movie to start.

Twenty minutes in, Keith heard sniffling.

“Are you _already_ crying?” Keith asked, genuinely impressed.

“It’s good!” Lance said defensively. “Just watch!”

And so he did. One hour and thirty two minutes later, they were both in tears.

“What did I say, man?” Lance said. “Powerful stuff.”

“Yeah,” Keith said, wiping his own tears. “You weren’t kidding.”

“What now?” Lance asked. “Horror flick? I need something to offset the feelings I’ve willingly put myself in.”

“Yeah, horror’s good.”

Lance looked through his movie selection before happening upon one that sent chills down his spine. He held up the Coraline DVD case so Keith could see. “You ever watch this?”

“I thought you said horror,” Keith said.

“Ohoho,” Lance laughed, replacing the DVD. “Ohohohoho, Keith.”

Halfway through the movie, Keith broke. “Change it,” he said. “I don’t want any more nightmares than I need.”

Lance obliged. He was prepared for this response. Keith was no coward, but Coraline was serious business. “Teen Beach Movie, it is.”

“Teen Beach Movie?” Keith said through a yawn. “What’s that?”

“An underrated gem from the past is what it it,” Lance answered. “A _classic_ homage to the _classic_ West Side Story--bikers versus surfers with an interesting twist and an amazing soundtrack.”

Keith didn’t argue, so Lance started the movie.

He felt his eyelids droop right at the beginning of Falling For Ya, looked over to Keith, and found him completely knocked out, his head slumped over towards Lance. He wasn’t close enough to fall on his shoulder, but just out of his reach. A damn shame.

On the TV, Brady and Mac, the heroes of the film, were pulled into an elaborate dance number. This was one of Lance’s favorite scenes, but he wasn’t paying it any mind.

Instead, he gazed at Keith for as long as his eyes would stay open. His head tilted over in a way that their hair touched, and he kept his eyes on Keith’s hand placed lazily on his stomach. Falling asleep on a couch together? Was he serious? Lance wondered if Keith thought anything of it. If he thought anything of the shared ice cream and the hand brushing, the surf lessons and the corny movies. Did Keith know how it made Lance feel to see him be so close with his mother? Did he even think about these things at all?

Part of Lance doubted it, shrouding his hope in dismissal in order to safeguard his heart. But there were times--times when they’d look at each other for longer than necessary, times when their hands would touch, then were drawn together again and again like magnets. Times where Lance felt either like he needed to pour his aching soul out to Keith or dive underwater and let the waves cushion his screams. He thought he might be crazy for thinking that Keith might feel that way too, sometimes.

 _“Feels like a tumble from another world,”_ the song continued. _“Into your arms and so secure. Maybe I stumble, but I know for sure, head over heels, I’m gonna be your girl.”_

Keith had sought Lance out just as much as Lance had Keith. He never responded negatively to Lance’s flirting or teasing. He let Lance treat him to ice cream, and the more Lance thought about it, the more he felt that Keith might have been trying to hold his hand when they were walking back.

Besides, why would Shiro help him with Keith if he didn’t have a chance with him?

He entertained the idea that he and Keith being together could actually be a possibility. When he opened his heart up to this thought, he felt it pouring all over his insides. A warm honey that warmed him from head to toe. He dozed off, a little more hopeful than he had been on nights before.

Lance finally gave up and allowed his eyes to shut. As he fell completely asleep, the last thing he heard was the finale of the song playing softly throughout the room:

_“And now I’m fallin’ for ya, fallin’ for ya,_  
_I know I shouldn’t but I, I just can’t stop myself from_  
_Fallin’ for ya, fallin’ for ya_  
_Can’t hold on any longer, and now I’m falling for you.”_

-

July 17

Lance woke up the next morning to the sound of something tapping on the windows. It took him a second to come to his senses, to take in his surroundings.

Oh. He was dreaming about rain again. He closed his eyes, ready to resume his rest. Then, his eyes snapped open. He sat upright from the couch where he and Keith had passed out on, and looked at the window.

Rain.

Rain!

_Rain!_

His first instinct was to find Coran and Allura. From what Coran told him, they didn’t have rain on Altea. It was summer, so Lance didn’t know how long this weather would last, but he was not going to let them miss out on it.

He noticed Keith’s arm strewn on his lap and gently peeled it off, making a note to freak out about that later.

Allura had been sharing a bed with Lance’s sister, and Coran with Lance’s grandparents on his mother’s side. He’d opted to find Allura first, as Veronica’s room was closer.

He creeped in and gently shook Allura, but his sister woke up first. “Lance, _what_ are you doing?” Lance and Pidge may have had a reputation for most-cranky-when-tired on the castle-ship, but no one on Earth, space, or otherwise could beat Veronica in that department. “I’ll kill you if you don’t get out of here in two seconds. I’ll do it.”

“Jee--”

“I will.”

“God, okay, just give me one minute, please,” Lance said, because he really didn’t doubt her. Then, he whispered to Allura, “Allura! Wake up!”

Allura’s eyes fluttered open and Lance grinned. “Get out of bed, I need to show you and Coran something.”

Together, they walked out, seen off by Veronica’s middle finger, and went to find Coran.

After Lance had rallied the both of them, he stood in front of the door to say a few words. “A while back, Coran told me you guys didn’t have rain on Altea, which still doesn’t make sense to me, ‘cause, y’know, the water cycle and stuff, but that’s besides the point. The Earth has decided to grace us with a special gift, and it is my honor to be the one to show it to you guys.”

He opened the door, and both felt and heard Allura, Coran, and himself gasp at the scene outside. Lance grabbed a pair of boots by the door, put them on, ran outside, and threw his arms out and his head back.

“Is it poisonous?” Coran asked.

Lance laughed, giddy from the rain and humored by Coran’s comment. “Not at all! Come outside!”

Allura and Coran looked at one another before hesitantly stepping outside.

“Oh,” Allura said as a drop landed on her face. “It’s quite cold.”

“It feels nice, though, doesn’t it?” Lance asked.

“Yes, it does!”

“Try this,” Lance said, opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out. “Thry tho cath the wather in your mouth.”

Allura and Coran followed suit.

“Why is this so hard?” Coran asked. “They’re everywhere, yet I can’t seem to catch one!”

“Right?” Lance asked. He spun around and let his arms fly wherever they wished.

“Why, this is marvellous!” Coran exclaimed. He and Allura, after getting over their initial skepticism, had become just as giddy as Lance. They spun around and welcomed the raindrops on their face, laughing in utter delight. Lance’s heart swelled at the sight of them.

“Be right back,” he said. He walked through the door, leaving the boots on the mat. One by one, he woke up every paladin and told them of the scene outside. He dismissed Pidge’s wrath, telling her he expected her outside in one minute. When everyone was alerted, he dashed back outside.

He pulled his boots on and spotted a puddle. _8th grade track and field, don’t fail me now,_ he thought as he took a running start and leaped right in the center. The water splashed in every direction, and Lance laughed in satisfaction.

Eventually, everyone had made it outside, and, with Lance’s help, had found themselves turned into five year olds. Allura and Coran had joined hands and were spinning in circles together, with Shiro as the point in the center. Hunk and Pidge had let the rain flatten their hair down, apparently acting out the dramatic music video of their dreams. Lance skipped in circles around them all until coming face-to-face with Keith, who had apparently been basking in the scene surrounding him.

Lance stopped dead in his tracks and looked into Keith’s eyes for a just moment before grabbing his hand and spinning him around under his arm and pulling him every which way.

And there they all were, dancing in the rain, jumping in puddles, catching water droplets in their mouths like they were all kids again. And, while they weren’t children, there was no rain out in space and there were no puddles on a flying ship, so they threw every inhibition in the garbage and revelled in this simple miracle that Earth had to offer.

-

July 23

“Do it.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

_“Please.”_

“No.”

_“Why not?”_

“Because, Lance, it’s embarrassing.”

“In what world is turning into a cool ass cat-eyed alien embarrassing?”

They were sitting in Lance’s room, Lance lying on the floor, and Keith on Lance’s bed with his back against the wall. Lance had dug out his old paddle balls, handed one to Keith, and had wordlessly initiated a competition to see who could go longer.

“It just is.”

“How?”

“I have to, like…” Keith, still paddle-balling, stared at the ceiling like he couldn’t believe he was in this situation. “Basically I have to, like, get angry. Well, not angry, but at least get my adrenaline going. And it’s just weird if I force myself to do it.”

“You’re like a werewolf,” Lance said. “That’s so cool.”

Keith didn’t deny it, and Lance knew that it was because Keith knew he was right. “Still,” Keith said. “I’m not gonna sit here growling ‘till I grow fangs.”

 _“Fangs?”_ Lance said. “I thought it was just your eyes ‘n stuff. Now you have to. What gets you pumped up? We could go surfing.”

“It doesn’t work like that. It’s not just gonna happen whenever I’m having fun.”

“So you love surfing. Noted.” Lance tucked his presumptuous conclusion in his pocket for future reference. “Sparring?”

“I know you won’t kill me, so no.”

Lance thought long and hard. “I could fly us around in Red and _almost_ get us killed.”

“I can’t even begin to explain how bad of an idea that is.”

“Work with me, here, Keith.”

“Maybe if we had the castle’s sparring bot that tried to kill me.”

“Yeah. Hope he’s doin’ alright.” Lance thought for another minute, then gave up. “Well, I don’t know.”

“What a shame.”

“How long have we been paddle-balling?”

Keith looked at the clock on Lance’s desk. “45 minutes.”

“Wow,” Lance said. “We’re talented.”

There was a knock at the door, made futile by Hunk poking his head in one second later. “Could you guys help us carry some ship parts out of Pidge’s lion? We need the space.”

“For what?” Lance asked. “You finished Shiro’s arm, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, and now we need it for DDR.”

“Oh, why didn’t you say so?” Lance was already standing up, making sure to keep his paddle ball momentum going. “I didn’t know it was that serious.”

He followed Hunk through the door, Keith right on his trail.

When they made it outside, they saw Allura and Coran already unloading cargo that filled the green lion and Pidge supervising from atop it.

“Broken spine, my ass,” Keith said in reference to Coran, to which Lance nodded in agreement.

“Can you guys put those down and grab what you can?” Hunk asked.

Lance and Keith did not put their paddle balls down, but they did begin to unload the cargo with their free arms. Why keep a good thing from going?

Lance grabbed a box from one of many large stacks. His elbow bumped into the stack next to it, which had apparently been unstable. Lance turned around, too focused on his paddle ball to notice the exceptionally heavy looking box got that knocked over.

“Lance!” Keith grabbed Lance’s arm and pulled him out of the way, dropping his paddle ball and catching him in his other arm as the box landed with a _crash!_ where Lance had just been standing.

Keith walked Lance a few feet away and quickly checked to make sure he didn’t have any injuries while Lance just stared at him, shocked and wide eyed.

“I’m okay,” Lance said. “You pulled me out of the way. Thank you.”

“Are you sure, Lance?” he asked. Keith looked up to meet Lance’s eyes from where he was bent over, and Lance was met with slits for pupils staring back at him. His skin showed a purple tint, and the whites of his eyes were more like yellows. Lance’s face lit up.

“Yes!” he yelled triumphantly. If all Lance had to do was get himself almost trampled, he would have tried that a whole hour ago!

Keith stopped for a moment and looked at his hands. “Oh,” he said. “Okay, well, here it is.” He wasn’t kidding about the fangs.

“Cool,” Lance said, his voice just above a whisper. “Does it hurt at all?”

“No,” Keith answered. “It just feels--weird? Not in a good or bad way. Just different.”

Lance continued to gaze at Keith, leaning in dangerously close. Y’know, in the name of curiosity and all that.

“Are you not freaked out?”

“No way, man,” Lance said. “Honestly, you’re kind of beautiful.” His eyes widened as he realized he’d said that last part out loud.

Keith, whose eyebrows jumped at this, turned even more purple.

“Alright,” Lance said, trained in the art of easing tension through jokes. “You saved me from being crushed and now I’m staring at your fangs. I feel like I’m in Twilight.”

Keith’s formerly concerned face relaxed into an easy smile, and they slowly made their way back to rejoin the others.

“Do you think you could learn to do that on command?”

“Why, sick of my regular face?”

“Never,” Lance said. He was letting words slip left and right. “I just think it would be cool if, y’know, you could do that without having to have a near heart attack.”

“Well, I haven’t tried it,” Keith said. “I could ask my mom what she thinks. Wow, that still feels weird to say.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

Keith smiled a fang-y smile at Lance. Lance willed his heart to calm down. Then, he realized--

“Aw, man! We dropped our paddle-balls.”

“Looks like there’s no way of telling a winner,” Keith said.

“No way,” Lance replied. “There’s no way you could have shoved me out of the way and kept paddling. You’re not a god.”

“You don’t know that,” Keith said, completely lying. His logic: if they tied, they had to try again. As they found their groove, he began calming down, and his irises, skin, and teeth were returning to their regular state. “I totally could have kept going."

They had moved a grand total of two feet, any energy that should have been used for walking being absorbed by their debate. “There’s no way,” Lance said. “None.”

“Yes, there is!”

“Nope. Impossible.”

“It makes sense--if I was paddling for, like, an hour, my muscles would be used to it and keep going unless I consciously stopped.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.” Lance said.

“Yes it does,” Keith insisted. “Listen, if my muscles were already accusto--”

“No one is thinking about your muscles, Keith,” Lance said. “And even if what you’re saying made sense, which it doesn’t, that still wouldn’t make you the winner.”

“I’m not saying I won, I’m saying we tied.”

“There are no ties.”

“Can you guys please come help now?” Hunk asked.

-

July 25

It was an uneventful day. It was foggy and cool, so Lance seized the opportunity to wear a sweater and drink a hot mug of tea outside.

Lance’s mood fit the weather; he woke up in a state of melancholy, the gloom looming over him like his own personal raincloud.

Now standing in front of his house, he took a sip of his drink and heard the front door opening behind him. Moments later, he saw Keith from the corner of his eye, holding (flaunting) a mug of his special, exclusive, Whole Foods tea. Lance didn’t comment. He’d come to like that Keith shared something with his mom.

“Hey,” Keith said.

“Hi.”

“How’d you sleep?”

Lance didn’t answer. Instead, he looked up at Keith before saying, “I thought about what you said.”

“So you agree that we tied?”

“About how we started our team with the seven of us.” Lance looked back down and watched the steam rise from his mug. “And I know you’re right. But there’s this voice in the back of my mind, and it--”

Lance cut himself off. He didn’t need to do this.

“What, Lance?” Keith said. “You can tell me.”

Lance sighed. He stared at his tea for a whole minute before saying, “I made up with everyone. But I’m scared for when we go back up there. Back into space. I mean, if three’s a crowd, five’s pushing it, and seven’s a damn party. And now we have Krolia and Matt. I just--”

When Lance didn’t continue, Keith spoke again. “What are you trying to say?

“I just--I know I made up with everyone,” he repeated. “But just when I think I’m over it, the voice in my head gets louder and louder, and I doubt myself all over again. I just feel like everyone has their place. And I know the universe needs its defenders, but does it _want_ me?”

Keith took a moment before he answered. “I do,” he said finally. “And it doesn’t matter how many people fill up that new castle ship. Even if there were a thousand of us, every noise would make an echo if you weren’t there.”

_I need you._

It was an uneventful day, but Lance felt like he’d won the lottery.

-

July 28

Lance came home from a day full of solo surfing. He’d asked Keith to join him, but was just met with mumbling, something about how he had to [unintelligible] at the [unintelligible]. Lance had decided not to push it; it was a bummer, but at least he still had the ocean.

He walked into his house, drying his hair with a towel that he had promised Samara he would bring back the next day, knowing that she couldn’t care less.

Surfing had left him starving, but his friend at the Snack Shack hadn’t been working, and he refused to see the day where he would pay for anything on Varadero Beach. His plan was to stay there until nightfall, but hunger won and he left before the sun had even begun to set.

He yawned and flicked on the light in the kitchen-- _why was it so dark? They never closed the blinds in there._ Then--

_“Surprise!”_

Lance shrieked at the collective yelling that ambushed him.

“Happy birthday, Lance!” Hunk and Allura yelled, Hunk placing a birthday hat on Lance’s head while Allura threw her arms around him.

It took Lance a second. Then, five more. He looked at the calendar on the fridge. July 28th. It was his _birthday_.

“Holy shit,” he said. “It’s my birthday!”

His eyes darted to his mother when he’d realized he’d let the profanity slip in front of her. Lance saw her desperately trying to bite her lecture back.

“Okay, group picture!” Lance’s uncle yelled. “All the padawans!”

“Paladins,” Allura corrected, but she pulled Lance inside and stood next to him, Coran on her left.

“Yes, that.”

“Get on my back,” Hunk said, squatting in front of Lance. Man, Lance had really missed him. He hopped up on his buddy’s back and held on tight. Pidge squatted under them and readied her own pose.

Keith seemed to come out of nowhere, wearing an old red flannel and dark wash jeans. He walked over to stand by the Pidge/Hunk/Lance tower. When Lance looked down towards Keith, he found him already smiling up at him. Shiro had settled next to Keith, placing bunny ears on his head that Keith either didn’t seem to notice or care about. He just kept smiling at Lance.

“Say cheese!” A camera flashed. Neither Keith nor Lance had broken their gaze.

After the photo had been taken, Lance’s entire family began the process of shooing everyone away, fighting for the next slot for a photo OP with Lance.

About one thousand pictures later, Lance’s mom finally saved him. “Okay, okay! Cake!”

“ _Yes,”_ Lance, Pidge, and Hunk all groaned in unison. _Man_ , he had missed them.

Someone turned on the music, and thus began the celebration of Lance’s life.

-

Lance studied his cake. Cookies n’ cream ice cream cake with white frosting on top and blue frosting on the outer edges. Why did that sound so familiar?

Oh.

 _Keith_. He had been asking the bakery guy about this cake! Lance’s eyes widened as he realized that he’d crashed his own party planning party.

“Ma!” Lance called, walking towards his mother.

“Yes?” When Lance reached her, she wrapped her arms around his waist, and Lance leaned the side of his head atop hers. “What is it?”

“Was Keith in on this?” He gestured all around him with one arm, indicating that “this” meant his whole birthday party.

She let go of Lance and sat down on the couch behind her, a fond smile on her face. Lance sat next to her.

“On the day that you came home, when I was showing Keith your baby pictures--”

“Oh, yeah, thanks for that, by the way,” Lance said sarcastically.

“--He saw a picture from the day you were born. When he saw the date, he pointed it out, and I told him we’d already decided on throwing a surprise party for you. He said he wanted to help us plan.”

“Oh,”

“You know,” his mother said. “He’s not anything like you told me.”

“Yeah, well, I guess you could say my personality rubbed off on him,” Lance joked, but he wasn’t all the way into it. Keith wanted to help plan his party.

“So it seems,” she said. “He’s very fond of you.”

“Oh, god.” Lance covered his face with his hands and groaned.

“Do you still hate this boy?”

“No,” Lance said. _I never did._ “The opposite.”

His mom nodded and put her hands on each of his shoulders.

“Does he know?”

“No,” Lance said, putting his own hands in his lap and sinking into his mother’s arms.

“Are you going to tell him?”

Lance just groaned again.

“How are you feeling right now?”

“Honestly, a little stressed,” Lance said. “A little like I want to crawl into a hole.”

“See, that’s not allowed,” Lance’s mom replied. “I want my baby to have fun on his birthday. If this worries you, it can worry you tomorrow. For now, dance, have a good time. You can think about him if you want, but it’s your _birthday_ and I want you to be happy."

“Okay, Ma,” Lance said. “I love you.”

“Love you,” she said, kissing his cheek and standing up. “If you frown, don’t think I won’t know. I’ll be there before your mouth can even turn all the way down.”

“Okay, okay,” Lance laughed. “Go have fun.”

-

After searching everywhere and coming up short, Lance finally gave up and sought help. “Where’s Keith?” he asked Hunk.

“Uh, I think he said something about going to the beach. I was gonna tell you, but you and your mom looked like you were having a heart-to-heart and I didn’t wanna get in the way.”

“Thanks buddy.” Lance took off the birthday hat and placed it on Hunk's head.

Lance slipped out of his own party and walked the familiar route to his beach. It took 1,744 steps.

He was happy for the reduced time it took to get there, for he had the feeling that Keith was expecting him.

-

Lance never thought that he would be the one looking for Keith on Varadero beach, yet there he was, jogging barefoot across the sand, partially hoping Keith would be there to meet him in the middle and run into his arms.

“Keith!” Lance yelled when he finally spotted him. He was looking out over the ocean, hands in his pockets, waiting. Waiting. Waiting. For _him_.

Keith turned around, and, from where Lance was standing, was perfectly framed by the magnificent sunset. The pink and orange sky spilled onto Keith’s skin and framed his entire body. Lance took a shaky breath and walked closer.

“Hi,” Keith said.

“Hi,” Lance said.

“Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.” Lance moved to be on Keith’s right side, then sat down on the sand. He didn’t plan on leaving anytime soon.

Keith sat down, too, and mimicked Lance’s position, leaning back onto his hands. His right hand covered Lance’s left, but there was no flightiness to it. It wasn’t like the other times when their fingers brushed, where they could both hide behind the assumption that the other had made contact simply by accident. Keith’s palm rested on the back of Lance’s hand with full intent to do so.

Lance kept his eyes forward. He didn’t know if he could handle looking at Keith again just yet. “My mom told me you played a part in my surprise party. You really didn’t need to do that.”

“I know,” Keith said. “I wanted to.” He dug in his pocket with his free hand, pulled out a wrinkled sheet of paper and showed it to Lance. Lance peered over and studied its contents: all of the groceries that they had picked up when they went to the store were listed. Then, underneath, it read: “Lance’s Birthday Bananza!” with a labelled drawing of his cake. Lance was surprised he didn’t melt on the spot.

There was the feeling that Lance got from Shiro clapping a hand on his shoulder, or Hunk squeezing him in a hug, or his mother pinching his cheek--the one where he knew, in that moment, he was wanted. They had reached out to touch _him_. It was in those moments that Lance could completely relax into himself, that he could exhale, that he could find a home in these people.

At Keith’s touch, at his words, he found this, and more. _I wanted to_. It lit Lance’s heart ablaze.

There were so many times in the past year that Lance felt so present that everything around him almost felt fabricated. He would stop to assess his reality and think that nothing around him could have possibly be real. He couldn’t have been flying through space, he couldn’t have been fighting purple aliens, he couldn’t have been going in and out of wormholes.

Now, as he took in everything around him, he felt the same way. He couldn’t be sitting on his beach, he couldn’t have been watching the ocean water ebb and flow. He couldn’t have been running his palm on the sand with one hand and touching Keith with the other. But he was. However, he wouldn’t be doing so forever. They would be leaving Earth soon, and though he knew that, right now, his place was here, when the time came, it would be back in space so they could save the universe once and for all. No matter what Lance did, the sand on Varadero Beach would slip through his fingers one final time until, finally, he came back again. And, although Keith was coming along with them, Lance didn’t want to leave behind what they’d found here.

One could understand how collosal his disappointment was when Keith pulled his hand back.

He was just reaching for something inside his flannel, but Lance doubted he would replace his hand on Lance’s. Had he missed some window of opportunity that he didn’t know existed? Had Keith been waiting for Lance to do something? Would he get another chance?

Then, Keith held something directly in front of Lance’s face and looked up in the opposite direction in mock innocence. This something was thin and flimsy, wrapped up and finished off with a bow.

“What’s this?” Lance asked.

“Your birthday gift,” Keith said. “You’ll see why I didn’t want to give it to you at the party.”

Despite the cryptic nature of that last sentence, Lance’s nerves calmed and he opened the gift eagerly. He had no idea what kind of gift could be so small, but the mystery made it all the more exciting. Finally, he got it open. Under the rapidly darkening sky, he had to squint to make out the picture, but he could almost--

“Oh my god,” Lance said. “Is this--?”

“I already regret it.”

“This is the best day of my life. This is it. It’s all over. It’s all downhill from here.”

Lance held between his fingers the key to the universe, excalibur itself, a polaroid photo of baby Keith crying in a tin bath. And he _did_ have a mullet! It was small, hardly as pronounced as the mess that graced Keith’s head today, but it was there. A baby mullet. Lance thought he would cry.

“I thought you said you forgot about your baby photos.”

“I lied.”

Lance laughed incredulously. “Can I hug you?” he asked. “Like, I honestly don’t know any other way to express my gratitude. I’m gonna hug you.”

So, he scooted closer and hugged Keith. Keith hugged him back. The waves crashed on the shore.

The water tugged at Lance as it always did, and it had both a sobering effect and an intoxicating one at the same time. It pulled at the words that were lodged in his throat, but for the first time, he didn’t see it as falling victim to the tides, but as if he was being pulled towards bravery, towards the unknown. He refused to worry about any more missed opportunities. So, when the water pulled back, Lance did too. He looked into Keith’s eyes and let the words come out.

“I’m falling in love with you,” he said. “I think I always have been. And I already told you I missed you. But, god, I _really_ missed you. And having you back--I don’t know. It’s been so great. And I just--I just wanted you to know how I feel.”

Keith didn’t say anything at first. He just stared back into Lance’s eyes, eyebrows upturned, expression soft. The silence didn’t scare Lance; he could take whatever Keith had to say.

“Lance,” Keith finally whispered.

“Keith?” Lance whispered back.

Keith put his fingers under Lance’s chin and kissed him. The waves crashing onto shore sounded suspiciously like applause as Lance kissed Keith back.

But maybe that was just the romantic in him.

-

August 6th

They were leaving.

After emotional, suffocating goodbyes had been shared between Lance, his family, the paladins, and Coran, they had left Varadero, landed in Texas, and had gathered all of the lions into the new and improved castle-ship. Lance felt sad, of course, but not in a way that he expected. His family knew he was okay. He had got to spend almost two months at home. He had reconnected with himself. And, yeah, he was going to miss Earth like all hell, but he was with the paladins, with Coran, and they had all danced under the same raining sky. The water had sunk into their skin. He was bringing his home with him.

Someone knocked on Lance’s door.

“Yeah?”

“It’s me,” came Keith’s voice.

“Come in.”

“We should be lifting off soon,” Keith said, sitting next to Lance and tucking one leg close to him so they could face each other, all the while obviously hiding something behind his back.

“You’re not gonna ask?” Keith said, referring to the hidden item.

“Ask about what?” Ha! A taste of his own medicine.

Keith didn’t give Lance the satisfaction of being annoyed; he just pulled out what he was hiding.

“Oh.”

“I knew you’d miss Varadero,” Keith said, holding a mason jar full of sand and shells. “So… something to leave by your bedside.”

“You stole sand for me?”

“Wh--Is that illegal?”

Though Lance had been very clear in telling Keith that he was _falling_ in love with him, suggesting there was only one endpoint for him to reach, Lance had not actually told Keith that he _did_ love him. He just made it clear that he _would_ , that he was getting there. But now, seeing his own heart collected and put in a jar, held in Keith’s hands--he knew.

He ignored Keith’s question. “I love you.”

“Oh,” Keith whispered, a surprised little noise that made Lance’s heart swell. He smiled. “I love you, too.”

Lance placed his hands on either side of Keith’s face and leaned in to kiss him. When their lips met, the castle-ship made its ascent, and Lance’s heart soared with it.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u so much for reading!!!!  
> [here's](https://open.spotify.com/user/sallyseifu/playlist/0ab9wRmiphUaKCrvH2Yq1e?si=fAetpECZQ5upHN6-u_mDOg) the link to the playlist for this fic
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr](http://sunstirade.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
> [my twitter](http://twitter.com/deathnoteop1)
> 
>  
> 
> extra: [the face shiro made when he saw lance's shiro poster](https://78.media.tumblr.com/57d52a99b9a615ccf88b78dd5bf29999/tumblr_inline_p6xtpoKL131siz0hd_500.jpg) (courtesy of rory)
> 
> (edit: ive read all of your comments at least five times over, thank you SO much to those of u who commented!!! i wish i'd gotten to replying, but i was more worried i would forget to respond to some people when every single comment has been so touching!! i was seriously about to cry reading some of these comments the morning after LMAO so...anyways, thank you guys so much. it really means a lot <3)
> 
> (another edit: also check out [this beautiful art](https://comet-kind.tumblr.com/post/176710648680/and-i-do-love-you-so-so-much-youve-become-my) by comet-kind on tumblr!!! thank u so much, it's amazing!<3)


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